


Future Plans

by WandersUnderStarlight



Series: Not Just a Spark [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Prowl, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandersUnderStarlight/pseuds/WandersUnderStarlight
Summary: After waking from a four million year stasis and adapting to their temporary home/ war front, Prowl had somehow gonemorecrazy.





	Future Plans

**Author's Note:**

> As I was working on the last snippet in this series, this one decided it wanted to be written and included. So, one more _after_ this one.

As much as Jazz liked and appreciated their new human allies, they had inadvertently made his life more complicated. After waking from a four million year stasis and adapting to their temporary home/ war front, Prowl had somehow gone _more_ crazy. (Jazz hadn’t even realized that was possible.) Being around the tiny organic race had apparently given him ideas about their future.

The crashing of the _Ark_ had rendered many of the crew’s quarters uninhabitable and so most bots were forced to double up. Of course, Jazz had ended up with Prowl.

On the outside, their relationship was a hopeful symbol for the Autobots. Enduring love in the midst of a grueling war. Jazz did nothing to correct the inaccuracy.

In reality, however…

Prowl sat comfortably on their shared berth with Jazz in his lap. His digits stroked over the Ops mech’s chestplates possessively. 

“Our sparklings will be perfect.” Prowl murmured rubbing the seam that hid Jazz’s spark over and over. “I look forward to seeing you with spark. To feeling our children through our bond.”

“Ya agreed tha’ we shouldn’t bond until afta’ th’ war.” Jazz reminded him softly with a frisson of unease running through his EMF, though he remained passive in Prowl’s hold.

Prowl chuckled, despite a tiny flicker of frustration lashing through his field. “I still stand by that agreement, but you cannot fault me for fantasising a little bit. You are so gentle with the humans, I know you will make the perfect carrier. Just imagining your field heavy with our sparklet, surrounded by our other creations… I think I would like nothing more than to keep you always carrying.”

That sounded like the worst spark prison Jazz had ever heard of, but he kept his thoughts wisely silent.

“I hadn’t really given much thought t’ bitlits. Maybe thought I’d ‘ave one or two, ya know, if I survived.”

Prowl’s grip tightened incrementally on his palting. He hissed into Jazz’s audial. “You will survive. And we will be together at the end of all of this nonsense.”

Jazz just let himself go strutless. “I believe ya.”

The Praxian purred, nuzzling under Jazz’s chin. “I want to merge with you.” His servos were already moving towards Jazz’s interface panels. Caressing plating, tweaking wires and suffusing his EMF with desire. “I shot Starscream out of the sky for attacking Prime. Surely that deserves a reward.”

Jazz vented hotly and turned in Prowl’s hold to straddle his lap. The mech was far too good at revving him up.

“Yes.” he said leaning down to kiss the tactician. “Ya deserve a reward.” 

They began the dance that Jazz both hated and craved. Part of him revelled in the feel of wholeness that flowed through them when they merged, but it also made him sick to his tanks that he could enjoy such a thing with this mech. It was still only a Lesser Merge; Jazz refused to bond fully until the war was over. Half of the reason was to keep the tactician in line, the other half was to buy Jazz as much time as possible before he became irrevocably tied to the Praxian. Though part of him felt as though he was already bound in chains.

Through their hardline, Prowl sent packets of data that washed Jazz’s processors with images of himself on a massively cushioned berth with a dozen faceless sparklings surrounding him. He shuddered at the force of personality and power behind the make-believe scene. 

Prowl wanted it so badly that _Jazz_ ached. A wave of _possession/reverence/worship_ flooded the link between them.

_:I love you, my mate.:_

Jazz whimpered softly. Prowl waited keenly; hungering. Jazz stayed silent. He wasn’t going to give in yet.

_:Say it.:_ Prowl sent a harder pulse. _:Say the words, Jazz.:_

_:I… I…:_

A deluge of pure sensation overwhelmed him as Prowl channeled the data from his doorwings directly into Jazz’s systems. He bit off a wail.

_:...I love you, Prowl.:_

Prowl was merciful in his victory; pushing them both into overload.


End file.
